Starry Skies
by Devoregirl
Summary: *Sherlock glanced up at the sky, "Aren't they beautiful?" he mused about the stars.- Canon* A story written inspired by this moment in the show. Kid!lock, Teenaged Mycroft, fluffy backstory.


Sherlock Holmes was nine when Mycroft left for university. The young boy had felt as though he was not only losing his best friend but simultaneously the only person with whom he could have a decent conversation with; someone who took the pre-adolescents thoughts and ideas seriously.

He could recall with perfect clarity the night before his brother's departure. The young boy had battled with his hurt at being deserted in a huge manor with his cold, detached mother and an army of servants as the only company for miles. His dread at being alone was so great that he felt isolated even before his brother left, his young heart clenching with hurt at the feeling of abandonment.

Mycroft Holmes , young as he himself was, was gifted with powers of observation that would surpass even Sherlock's when the younger Holmes brother became a renowned Consulting Detective. It was not a surprise, therefore, that he noticed the emotional turmoil his younger brother was going through; in fact, anyone with an average sense of observation could have figured that out.

The night before he left, Mycroft steered his brother towards the majestic doors that led out of the house. Sherlock resisted a bit, not wanting to break the silent treatment he had been giving his brother since he told him he would be leaving for college. But the older Holmes smirked in amusement rather than getting annoyed by his younger brother dragging his feet stubbornly against the floor. Once he realized that Sherlock would adhere to whatever stubborn, childish notions he was currently harboring that were refusing to make him lift his feet and walk by himself, Mycroft grabbed the younger boy under his arms and lifted him up with ease.

Mycroft chuckled as his brother squealed and struggled half-heartedly as he carried him outside into the garden and then lowered and released his hold on his younger brother. He then lowered himself so he lay propped on his elbows on the perfectly mowed grass and angled his face towards Sherlock.

"Go on, lie down." Mycroft's voice had just broken and he winced at the sound emitted by his throat.

"I don't want to." Sherlock scowled, enhancing his childish features by crossing his arms over his chest and pouting as he half turned his body away from, what he regarded as, his traitor of a brother.

"Come on, Lock. I know you're mad at me, but I want to talk to you." Mycroft offered a half smile, his eyes shining with the sincerity of his sentiment.

Sherlock glared at the teenager for a good thirty seconds before lying down awkwardly next to him.

Mycroft relaxed, completely lying down with his arms by his side as he stared u at the starry sky.

"So, I'm leaving tomorrow morning." Mycroft began.

"I know." Sherlock tried to keep his voice unemotional but Mycroft could hear the pain in his younger brother's voice.

"Lock, I am going to university. I'm not leaving forever. I'll be back, you know."

A non-committal sound was the only sign that Sherlock had heard his brother.

"It's a part of life. One day, you will have to go to university too and you will have to stay on campus. It is the way things are."

This time his younger brother didn't even bother with a reply, staring blankly at the velvety night sky and seeming to resolutely ignore his elder sibling.

"I'm not abandoning you."

And there it was, Mycroft had hit the nail right on its head as he heard Sherlock's breath hitch slightly.

"You're leaving me alone." The words were said so softly, in a voice wavering with so much unvoiced hurt that Mycroft instinctively drew his brother into his arms.

"Lock, I'll just be a phone call away."

"It won't be the same!" Sherlock's voice was muffled as his head was pressed against his brother's chest.

And Mycroft didn't know what to say to that, he felt his heart give a twinge because he knew it was true. It wouldn't be the same and he would miss a monumental part of his baby brother growing up.

With a sigh, Mycroft gently removed Sherlock's head from his chest and turned him so that they were both facing the sky once more.

"Lock, look at the sky. Do you see the stars?"

The answering "Yes." was said with a little sniffle.

"Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes." This affirmative was a little more hesitant as Sherlock wondered what his brother was trying to say.

"Well, I know I won't be physically present with you every day from now on. But, I will look at the stars every night. And if you look at them too, it will be as though we are together in some way."

The child pondered this and deemed it satisfactory, nuzzling against his brother as the continued to watch the night sky till he fell asleep and Mycroft carried him inside.

Years passed, Sherlock grew older and his view on the world and its inhabitants became increasingly darker. He was faced with many difficulties, with his abusive father coming back to live with his mother and himself after Mycroft left, to his experimentation in drugs taking a more dangerous turn as he overdosed. He deleted useless bits of information from his 'hard-drive' to make space for information that would help out in 'the Work'. He didn't recall basic facts about the solar system; he didn't find any use of it in his line of work.

But, up to this day, Sherlock Holmes appreciates the beauty of the stars. And every night since he was nine, he glances at the heavens above- even if it's just a fleeting glimpse- and no matter what, he always feels serene for a while.

**A/N: Right, so this is my first Sherlock fic. It turned out to be rather fluffy. Reviews are welcome and loved :)**


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